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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711723">The World Bloomed the Color of Flowers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidalamour/pseuds/amidalamour'>amidalamour</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cold Weather, Cuddling, During the War of the Ring, Emyn Muil, LOTS of flower metaphors, Pre-Gollum, Reminiscing, Romantic Fluff, worried!Sam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:48:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,538</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25711723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidalamour/pseuds/amidalamour</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Now, even in the twilight shaded by the overcast sky, and surrounded by great cliff faces like tombstones, and with the fire dying of starvation, leaving them in darkness, the world bloomed the colors of flowers, and Frodo wanted Sam to teach him all their names."</p><p>This story is set during the War of the Ring, while Frodo and Sam are wandering through Emyn Muil. Enjoy!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins &amp; Frodo Baggins, Frodo Baggins &amp; Sam Gamgee, Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The World Bloomed the Color of Flowers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A harsh wind whistled through the jagged, abrasive rocks, attacking the hobbits on all sides. The mist, clammy and frigid, was carried through the valleys and crevices and dampened everything it consumed. Their fire danced, dangerously close to being extinguished. A fire was a luxury anyhow, what with the dearth of trees and other combustible materials in the labyrinth of Emyn Muil.</p><p><br/>
Frodo pulled the elven cloak close to his shoulders and shivered. He rubbed his hands together and held them to the fire. The sunlight, already hidden by the overcast sky, was beginning to fade, and the whole world turned grey. The impending twilight certainly didn’t help Frodo’s clammy hands, and he fruitlessly held them to the fire.</p><p><br/>
“I didn’t see anything, but that creature could hide himself easily here, I don’t wonder.”</p><p><br/>
Sam trotted back down from the ledge he had been looking out from. He plopped down next to Frodo and huddled close to the campfire. His eyes widened at the sight of Frodo’s hands, which were pale and trembling. He reached out and pressed them between his own, trying to pass on whatever warmth was left in his own hands. Neither of the hobbits knew this, but the wind that drained the warmth from their hands and noses heralded the beginning of March. In kinder places, a hobbit might have their hands around the handle of a teacup, watching a light snow fall from the comfort of their own hole.</p><p><br/>
Sam frowned. “Why, Mr. Frodo, your hands are like ice!”</p><p><br/>
“You needn’t worry, Sam. I’m quite alright.”</p><p><br/>
Frodo smiled gently, but his shivering hands indicated otherwise. Sam lifted a hand to Frodo’s cheek and caressed it gently with the back of his hand. The firelight wove itself through Frodo’s blue eyes, like a tapestry embroidered with golden thread that Sam might have found while walking the halls of Rivendell that illustrated one of the great battles of an age long past. Frodo’s eyes, too, told a story of war and pain and hardship, but that story wasn’t over quite yet. Frodo’s cheek pulled the warmth from Sam’s fingertips, shaking him from his reverie.</p><p>“Don’t be silly! We can’t have you catching cold. Come, I’ll warm you.”</p><p>Frodo did not protest again. Sam found his hand falling from Frodo’s face to his shoulders, and Frodo leaned into the embrace, resting his head on Sam’s shoulder.</p><p>“The cold’s no joke, after all,” Sam mumbled, almost to himself. “Poor Daisy… one winter when she was small, she ran out in the snow without her hat. Had a nasty fever for nigh two weeks afterwards.”</p><p><br/>
“Yes, I remember,” Frodo sighed. “Bilbo fretted so much over her. He’d march down nearly every day to tell her stories of his adventures.”</p><p><br/>
“She never forgot that! Bilbo became her favorite hobbit around for quite a while afterwards. Do you remember how she used to follow him around town?”</p><p><br/>
Frodo laughed. It wasn’t particularly loud or hearty, but it was genuine, and that was enough. Sam smiled, and pulled him just a bit closer.</p><p><br/>
“Bilbo pretended to be so grumpy about it,” Frodo said, shaking his head. He continued in his best Bilbo impression, “Frodo, my boy, if you see that Gamgee child at the door, you will tell her that I am not at home!”</p><p><br/>
This time, it was Sam’s turn to laugh. Frodo continued normally, “Of course, she appeared at our door nearly every day. And, of course, I always snuck her into the house. She was very persistent!”</p><p><br/>
“An’ she comes back to our hole talking about such incredible things! If she could see her brother out here in the wilderness, I’m sure she’d have a jealous fit.”</p><p><br/>
Frodo grew quiet. Sam decided to attribute this to the life-sucking chill of the air, and wrapped his other arm around Frodo’s back.</p><p><br/>
“My, the tales we’ll tell when we get home… be careful, Frodo, or Daisy will start following you!”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, Sam…”</p><p><br/>
“I’m serious! You’ll likely have grander stories than ol’ Mr. Bilbo. You could fill a whole book with just the adventures you’ve had now. The children will never let you be!”</p><p><br/>
“Sam…” Frodo looked away, distant.</p><p><br/>
“What is it, Mr. Frodo?”</p><p><br/>
“Oh, nothing. It’s just…” Frodo paused, doubtful. “Do you really think we’ll get to go home?”</p><p><br/>
“Of course!” Sam pulled back a bit to look Frodo in the eyes. The golden thread in Frodo’s eyes glistened with despondency. “We’ll go back to the Shire and it will be as green and beautiful as it was when we left. That’s a promise, and a Gamgee’s true to his word!”</p><p><br/>
Frodo smiled, and while his eyes still sung of sadness, there was now one hopeful verse, and that can make all the difference. “We’ll go back home and be grumpy old hobbits telling fanciful stories.”</p><p><br/>
“That’ll be a sight no mistake! You and me, telling stories, all the respectable hobbits thinkin’ we’re quite mad!”</p><p><br/>
“I suppose there always will be a Mad Baggins in Hobbiton.”</p><p><br/>
“Well, the whole Shire should beware because Mad Gamgee will be with him.”</p><p><br/>
“And he is NOT to be trifled with!”</p><p><br/>
They both laughed, then Frodo lifted his hand to Sam’s face and swept his hair to the side. His hand found a home cupping Sam’s cheek. Perhaps this was selfish of him. This quest was dangerous, and if anything were to happen to Sam, Frodo knew he would never forgive himself. But deep down, Frodo didn’t want to face the world without Sam with him. How could he ever hope to defeat the darkness without a light? Frodo smiled, shaking his head, and peering into Sam’s wide brown eyes, suddenly the rest of the world faded to black, and Frodo leaned forward and kissed him.</p><p><br/>
When they were much younger, and Sam was just starting to work as Frodo’s gardener, Sam would teach Frodo about the flowers he was planting in the garden. Frodo would sit outside Bag End with Sam and spend the day listening to Sam’s explanation of why he was planting the tulip bulbs at that particular depth or why these flowers needed to be planted in the shade of the oak tree. Frodo learned so very much about flowers, but he learned even more about Sam, and his garden became even more beautiful when it was Sam’s voice in his head that illustrated it.<br/>
Now, even in the twilight shaded by the overcast sky, and surrounded by great cliff faces like tombstones, and with the fire dying of starvation, leaving them in darkness, the world bloomed the colors of flowers, and Frodo wanted Sam to teach him all their names.</p><p><br/>
After a long time, they pulled away. Sam stared at Frodo, mouth agape, eyebrows furrowed. Frodo began to panic. What had he done? Was their relationship destroyed? Did Sam think less of him now? What if-</p><p><br/>
Sam kissed him back, and all those concerns were silenced, and the world bloomed again, and they bloomed too.</p><p><br/>
Sam’s hands now lay in Frodo’s hair, and Sam ran his fingers through it, arranging it carefully. The fire was now glowing coals, and the cold was oppressive. They folded into each other’s arms and lay back against the dark cliff face, foreheads pressed together, in hopes that the cliff would shelter them from the wind. </p><p><br/>
“Sam?”</p><p><br/>
“Yes, Frodo?”</p><p><br/>
“Do you truly mean to never leave me?”</p><p><br/>
“I shan’t ever leave you! Not if all the armies and evil things in this world tried to make me. Not if you went to the moon or the stars.”</p><p><br/>
Frodo searched Sam’s wide brown eyes for any hint of exaggeration or falsehood, but there was none. Frodo also knew that there was no convincing Sam to do otherwise.<br/>
“We’ll be grumpy old hobbits together.”</p><p><br/>
“Certainly! I could come up to Bag End, and we could have a great big garden, and we could sit all day on the front porch in our rocking chairs.”</p><p><br/>
“We could be happy?”</p><p><br/>
“I really think so.”</p><p><br/>
Sam closed his eyes and lay his head on Frodo’s shoulder. Frodo’s fingers ran through Sam’s hair, and he soon rested his head on top of Sam’s. Sam’s breathing grew slow, and his arms relaxed. Sleep didn’t come so easily to Frodo these days, and his hand went to the Ring around his neck. He gripped it tightly, and dark words flowed like a stream through his subconscious mind. Words of distrust, fear, and loneliness. These were familiar words now.</p><p><br/>
“To bear a ring of power is to be alone.”</p><p><br/>
The words of Galadriel hummed in Frodo’s mind as he stroked Sam’s hair. Sam trusted him, loved him even. Sam would follow him to the moon and the stars. Frodo knew that wherever he went, Sam would be right behind. And now, with Sam in his arms, Frodo felt a little less alone. Could even one so great as the Lady Galadriel be wrong?</p><p><br/>
Frodo whispered, almost indistinguishably from the wind, “I think so too, Sam.” Frodo closed his eyes too, and pulled Sam closer, and sleep overtook him. And though his dreams were dark and horrid, they were just a little bit lighter now, as if the sun was just behind the horizon.</p>
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